#tahorra

[habibite]

from the same writer who brings you hits like “writes in all lowercase” and “often confuses prose and poetry” we bring you a new hit: there’s no quotation marks and we don’t know where they go!

[therentyoupay]

Tahno + korra , note passing!

pastry chef vs. barista!au —[ tahno/korra ]find them all here.

“What in the hell do you call this?”

His patrons look up, momentarily startled—then return to their morning sweets, unfazed.

She’s a thrashing storm in an apron; a tsunami dusted in stray pastry flower; an earth tremor enhanced by the scent of freshly-ground coffee beans; a hurricane in ruffles, which ‘for the record,’ she ’never agreed to, okay, it’s just for publicity, or something, I don’t know it’s Tarrlok’s stupid rule, god I wish they would fire him already—‘

She’s already here, flown across the street like wildfire in a pastry shop, and speaking of such—Tahno keeps working the dough with his roller. He has precisely 5.4 seconds until his refusal to acknowledge her will flip her over the edge, so somewhere just around the tipping point, Tahno finally deigns her with an impervious glance.

Except. Except one of his petit fours is already sitting on the countertop in front of him, which means that she has leaned over the glass barrier—again—and interrupted his perfectly sanitary working space to deposit it there. Again.  Clearly, the young amateurs of Avatar Legendary Coffee Roasters care little about the ways of food safety rules and regulations. Tsk. He should offer her a private session to... review them.

“Tahno, we had a deal—we can’t sell your stupid cakes if your face is etched over all of them! In cocoa!”

He lifts his gaze as he spreads his fingers wide, stretching and smoothing and caressing the dough precisely into place... he could do this blindfolded, he thinks, and smirks. Perhaps she’s finally taken notice?

“Oh? Having some sales trouble, Uhavatar?”

“That’s not the point and you know it,” she glares, nearly spitting fire, already rounding on her heel. She’s rampaging out the same way she rampaged in: apron billowing, fists clenching, lividity reeling. “Keep to the damn logo!” she calls, and slams the door behind her with an incongruous twinkle of bells.

//

“The usual,” Tahno drawls. “Unless you’ve forgotten.”

The tall, broody one glares like flashes of lightning; impressive, at first, in their raw energy—but quickly forgotten.

Tahno can practically see the flames shooting out from his eyeballs as the tall, angry cashier lowers his gaze to the cup he’s scribbling on. Ah, Tahno notes; he is being fastidiously ignored. The tall one is still not speaking to him, then? Uhvatar must have wrangled him into not uttering a word, lest the oaf damage their business partnership. Interesting.

Tahno scans the barcode from his phone—the newest model, but of course, fresh from four days ago—without breaking antagonizing eye contact with the tallest barista. The strain on the aproned oaf is obvious; Tahno’s grin curls deliciously.

“Fantastic customer service, as always,” he tosses, like lazy syrup filled with hidden razors, and steps back from the register. He’s thoroughly enjoying the sensation of laser beam-focus that is trying to melt the flesh from his bones. Flicks a disinterested hand over his shoulder as he nears the end of the bar. “See you, Taco.”

“It’s Mako.”

“So… where’s your star barista this fine morning?” Tahno asks, slowly, deliberately, and glances behind the bar towards the other one—the smaller, shorter, exuberant one. Said barista flips his coffee bean scoop in the air for a full double-rotation and catches it seamlessly, like that is any sort of feat at all.

“Working,” answers the taller, angry Mako. “You know. Like some of us do.”

“She’s in on a conference call,” interrupts the young Bolin with a genuine grin. Tahno’s gaze narrows in spite of himself; Bolin used to be so afraid of him. What’s changed? Where did the fear go? His sudden self-assuredness is…. unnerving. Bolin sets Tahno’s to-go cup down onto the counter and amicably offers, “Wanna leave a message?”

Tahno considers it.

“She knows where to find me,” is all he says as he takes his to-go cup and strolls toward the exit, feeling the tell-tale fire as it burns satisfying, invisible marks into his back all the way out the door, and then some.

It isn’t until he gets across the street and back into his office, into his desk chair, that he glances down at the side of his cup.

Your eyeliner’s smudged.

Twenty seconds later, Tahno tosses the hand mirror to the hard desk with a grating clatter, his sneer stretching something vicious, and his heart-rate is not climbing, it is not, it is fine, and that’s final.

//

Tahno stares down at the new to-go cup that has suddenly appeared before him.

“Delivery!” comes the cheerful answer from Bolin, presented with an accompanying wink. Ruffled, but electing not to show it, Tahno wordlessly picks up the still-too-hot cup.

“I didn’t pay.”

Bolin beams. “It’s on the house.”

Perturbed even further, Tahno eyes the lid with obvious suspicion. “Is it poisoned?”

Bolin lifts a cupped hand to his mouth and offers a conspiratorial whisper, “With neighborly support.”

If it’s bait, he isn’t biting. “Why?”

“As a special bonus-thank you!” Bolin broadly declares. “Your little baby-cakes are selling like mad!”

“Baby-cakes?”

“Here, check ‘em out! The Lady-Master of the house has sent you one as an offering.”

Tahno looks down at the creation of his own design—his creation, his work, his victories—(and Ming and Shaozu’s help, yeah, whatever)—and stares.

“I have a mustache,” Tahno muses, confused, as he stares down at the obvious… alternations that have been made to his petit four design. “And… orange hair.”

He’s never been one for the heat, but he can feel his blood begin to simmer; he’s not sure it’s entirely anger.

“Yeah! Isn’t it delightful? The sales have never been higher!”

Oh, wait—maybe it is.

//

[chicksnfics]

Join us in a short break from Republic City Blues to read the fic Michelle wrote for Writersine in our duel of feels. Writersine requested a Tahno x Korra fic from the Legend of Korra fandom.

Wanna hear something we wrote recently? Wanna hear us critique our own writing? Then listen in this time on Chicks N Fics.

[habibite]

be so ffr what if i just, in the year of our lord 2023, almost ten years after it's last episode aired, wrote a long haul fic just about tahno. what if it started from his early childhood and went through chapters of his preteen/teen/young adult years until he moved to rc. what if it was all from his pov and all about how he got to where he currently is in s1 and s2 (cuz buddies that is all i'm watching) and what if its.... glacier paced.... slowburn.... tahorr*a..... what if. what if.

[habibite]

when my time comes | read chapter one on ao3

tahno is not a redeemed man.

hell, he’s not even sure the word would work with his tongue, thinks that maybe instead of being pronounced it would get stuck, lost somewhere among the list of his wrongs that follow him around.

he doesn’t know when he got a list, he can’t remember when it started to outweigh his accolades. he just remembers that one day it didn’t hurt him when he heard the whispers when he entered the room, like he didn’t hear "he’s bad news" whenever he lingered too long.

[habibite]

when my time comes | read chapter five on ao3

“don’t avoid the truth.” 

“i’m not!”

 “do you really believe that?”

“yes.”

tahno scoffs, and takes another pull from his almost-gone drink. 

“you call this being truthful?” a midnight call to a no-good’s home, the ghost with nothing left but a reputation and a burning building. there’s words for that, tahno knows, and none of them revolve around being truthful.

[habibite]

title: bottoms up pairing: tahno/korra (legend of korra) word count: 2.1k

posted on ao3

23:30

“I’m hungry.” “Then maybe you shouldn’t have broken the lock.” “I said I was sorry.”

xxx

21:30

He had purchased the eyeliner because it had been advertised as 100% smudge-proof. 

It was a claim that Tahno had found to be entirely untrue as he leaned over the cool, ceramic countertop, carefully eyeing the black lines that smeared, if only in the slightest, and if only in the sight of his trained eye.

He gave a heavy sigh as he stood straight once more, having done all he could do to attempt fixing the smeared eyeliner, chiding himself with a quiet click of the tongue  for switching from a brand that he had come to trust, to a new brand that he had just heard of the other day. 

“If ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”  The old adage ran through his mind, one his mother frequently quoted, one he fervently hated. 

His hand ghosted over the brass doorknob, and he was almost out, when...

She happened. 

It's the only way to describe it, really.

One moment he was on his way to freedom - sweet, sweet freedom - and the next moment, the door opened on him, the frame hitting him square in the forehead and pushing him back, while a mess of sniffles and tears hurrying in, slamming the door behind her. 

By itself, it wouldn't have really been a problem. He had never seen her cry, and didn’t particularly care to, and was planning to quietly slip out of the bathroom and back into the crowd upstairs. However, when he heard the door click, and  though he didn’t try to open it, he had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that - given his luck - he might be stuck with the mess of sniffles and tears for a while.

And that was a problem.

He had come to socialize (if only briefly), to get drunk (well, not drunk drunk. He never really did like the taste of alcohol, per se, but it was a 21st birthday party - and not just any 21st birthday party, but Miss Asami Sato’s 21st birthday party -  so what else was to be expected?  … Not to mention that just a sip more of the wine he had previously been nursing on would have substantially improved his current mood, and to have a good night in general. It had been so long since he had actually been out and about and enjoyed himself. He had quite been looking forward to this night.)

He had certainly not come to be trapped in a bathroom with her. Not under normal circumstances, and certainly not when she was upset. 

Tahno was, by no means, a big believer in Fate. 

He did, however, think that someone, somewhere had a twisted sense of humor. 

It's the only way to explain how it came that he was staring down at the distraught girl who only grew more confused at the fact of another person would be in the same room. 

Hurriedly, she wiped away her away her tears with the back of her hand, crossing her arms defensively, looking up at him with the most annoyed look on her face. 

"What are you doing in here?" And though she wanted her question to come out with a bite, her voice still wavered. 

Tahno's eyebrow quirked as he leaned against the cool counter once more, supporting his weight with one hand, ignoring the stinging sensation that came from the door imprint on his forehead.

(And he hoped that she hadn't seen the tears that had welled in his own eyes upon the contact, and the way he hissed - and, well, he may have cursed, but that's not the point because it didn't hurt that much.)

"I could ask you the same thing," he retorted. His voice was smooth, a practiced tone, despite himself being mildly bewildered. "Don't you know what a closed door means?" 

Her lower lip jutted out in a pout as she moved just a step closer to him, as if challenging him. "I know what it means," she huffed, "But it wasn’t locked.”

“It was locked.” His lips curled into a frown, his own arms crossing over one another. “Before you knocked it in.” 

Because, really, that was the only plausible explanation. Tahno getting older, though… certainly he wasn’t becoming so scatter-minded so soon. 

He huffed at the thought (though perhaps she thought he was huffing at her, because her mood only darkened to the point where Tahno could actually feel it.)

(And it felt mildly frightening.)

“Is there something you needed?” He asked, dry humor edging into his voice. “Or did you just come here to bother me?”

“I didn’t come down here for you.” Her eyes narrowed - he had never seen her in such a foul mood before - giving him one last look before turning on her heel for the door. “As much as I know that hurts your feelings.” With the off-handed comment, she twisted at the handle and -

Ah.

Just as he had thought, it didn’t budge. 

"Oh, for fuck's sake."

In spite of himself, Tahno chuckled. The exasperation in her voice, mixed with her vocalization of his exact thoughts, was oddly funny. 

"You broke it."

"No, I didn't."

"You came in like a rhinopotamus. You broke it."

"If it had been locked, I wouldn't have come in."

She had turned now, looking at him, her hands balled in tight fists at her sides. He still hadn't moved from his spot against the counter. 

(And, the pain in his head had gone down quite a bit, thank you very much.)

"It was lo-" He stopped himself mid-sentence. Again, he huffed, the sharp exhale blowing at the strands of fringe that had rested against his forehead. "It doesn't matter." Though the tenseness in his voice made her think that it did indeed matter, and it gave her some small pleasure to know that it seemed to irk him. "What matters is if you can unbreak it." 

"I already tried, Pretty Boy." Her hands unballed - thank you - and rested on her hips instead. "Unless you'd like to try."

"I'll leave the brute force to you." His lips pursed, briefly. "I didn't come to throw myself against the door. But, I suppose I also didn't come to spend my night with you." A smirk tugged at the corner at his lips, not entirely from good humor. "Tonight's full of surprises, isn't it, Uhvatar?" 

If her mood had lightened any, it was gone as soon as he finished his sentence. 

"Apparently."  She shifted, turning towards the door as if, by sheer willpower, it would open. 

22:15

"No one's coming." 

"Shut up."

She had taken up a perch on top of the counter, watching as he paced, worrying tracks into the plush carpet. 

"They would have come a long time ago."

"I said, shut up."

Though he was a bit hurt that Ming and Shaozu hadn't come after him.

"Whatever, Mr. Grumpy Hair."

(He found that he liked it much better when she had taken a vow of silence against him.)

22:30

"You're going to burn Asami's rug."

He looked at her - still on the counter - and frowned. "Do you have a better idea?"

"Not yet."

22:35

"Have you tried yelling?"

He groaned. Loudly. 

22:37

"I have to go to the bathroom."

 "... Are you kidding?"

"Yes."

22:40

He had given up pacing for sitting, the tips of his toes touching the bottom drawers of the cabinet. 

"This is ridiculous."

"I agree."

"This is your fault."

Korra scrunched her nose - again, ridiculous - and he second guessed his position on the floor when she had to look down at him. "So call your fan club to bail you out." 

22:45

"How much longer do you think the party will last?"

"You don't know much about parties, do you?"

"No." 

"A couple more hours. At least." 

She sighed, sliding off of the counter and onto the floor, pulling her knees to her chest - and how she did it with the dress she had on, he wasn't quite sure. 

Of all the pranks that life had played on him in his twenty-three years of living, this one, by far, took the cake. 

Had he known that, when the Sato princess invited him and the Wolfbats to her birthday party, he would be where he was right now, well… 

He might have rethought his RSVP.

They had been in the small bathroom (that seemed to be getting smaller) for at least an hour now. Maybe two.

(….Had it been three?)

(Surely not.)

Tahno tried to think of the longest he had ever spent with her, and his mind could only recall the brief moments in the locker rooms before a Pro Bending match. 

(Because somehow the Fire Ferrets were still a team.)

(And, though he would never admit it, she was an enjoyable opponent, and seemed to be the one person he had found in his career that could evenly matched against him.)

 23:00

"I'm sorry." 

"Yeah."

23:15

Despite the thickness of the walls, the rain fell heavily enough for them to hear, and lightning hit hard enough for them to feel the vibration of the thunder. The flickering of the lights gave him enough of an excuse to pretend he didn't notice the momentary look of fear in her eyes. 

(Not that he had been looking at her eyes.)

"I didn't know it was suppose to rain." 

"So it seems."

"... Do you think the lights will go out?"

 "I'm not an electrician, Korra."

"Oh."

"Are you scared?" 

"No!" 

He laughed a laugh that made him throw his head back. "I can't believe it -"

"Shut up."

"- Our Avatar, afraid of a thunder storm." 

She turned her head, unwilling to meet his gaze. "I'm not afraid." 

He hummed, the reverberation getting lost in his throat. "If you say so." 

And that was that.

23:20

"Hey. When you came in here, you were crying. Why?" He hadn't really meant for the words to come out. It wasn’t that he really cared. Girls cried all the time.

(But it was something different when Korra cried.) 

And besides, it was boring to sit in silence.

(And she had seem really upset.) 

"I wasn't."

A quirk of his eyebrow challenged her words. 

"Mako broke up with me." Her voice made her seem smaller than she already was with her knees pressed tightly against her chest. 

"Again?"

"Yeah."

"Hm." 

"Surprises, right?" She looked over to him, a crooked grin on her face. (Though it wasn't one he knew her to wear.) 

      "Yeah."

"Mako's surprised to see Asami in that gown - " And it was a nice gown, Tahno mused. It fit in all the right places and - "And my surprise when he tells me it's over. Just like that." She snapped her fingers for emphasis. 

23:22

"Don't worry about him." 

23:30

“I’m hungry.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have broken the lock.”

“I said I was sorry.”

23:40

“Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“What were you doing in here?”

Tahno frowned - he really needed to stop doing that - as he thought of the hateful, overpriced, falsely advertised, pencil stick that brought him here.

(But it hadn’t turned out all bad.) 

“What do you think, Uh-vatar?”

“... I feel like it has something to do with the stuff you put on your eyes.” 

23:32

“I could always burn the door down.”

“No.”

“But -”

“No.”

“I thought you wanted out.”

“I do,” Tahno’s voice was curt - he hadn’t moved from his position on the floor and was starting to feel a tad stiff - and he eyed her warily, as if the very moment he took his eyes off of her, she would ignite the room in flames. “However, I would like to leave without this house burning down.”

“Suit yourself.” And she only sounded mildly offended when she shrugged her shoulders. “Priss.”

23:35

“It’s still raining.”

“Yes.”

“...It never rains in the Southern Water Tribe.” She stretched her legs out so that they were parallel to his, her hands resting on her thighs. 

“I hear it’s a desert.” 

“So I’m not use to it.”

“Are you admitting to being scared?” The lack of taunting in his voice surprised her.

“No,” She replied evenly, drawing out the syllable, her arms coming up and over her head, awkwardly stretching before her hands settled back in her lap. “I’m just… not use to it.”

“Okay.”

As if on cue, the roll of thunder - that had quieted down- rumbled, loudly, making her at-ease posture fade quickly as she jumped. Her eyes widened, if only for a moment, frantically scanning the room before locking on his form.

(Honestly?)

“I thought you said -”

“I’m not afraid.” Though the whine in her voice suggested otherwise to him.

He laughed, nudging the tip of his boot against her leg. 

“Okay.” 

(He couldn’t wait to tell Ming and Shaozu about this.)

(Then again…)

(They didn’t need to know, did they?)

[therentyoupay]

tahno + korra, camping!!!!

sci-fi!au —[ tahno/korra ]find them all here.

“No complaining,” Korra snaps, because she has had it with this nonsense—between the sudden ice storm and the navigator losing its frequencies; after only just managing to find this cave in the last few spaces of breath before the boulder-sized hail started to hit; after listening to Tahno whine for over 17 standard hour units on this godforsaken planet—

“You better remember that,” Tahno huffs, staring pointedly at what’s left of their supply pack in the generated, teal-tinged light of their only remaining lamp, and grins so sharp and so lewd and so annoying, “Because I won’t be the one complaining.”

Korra looks over, brow furrowing, lip curling, as she takes in the sight of the only functional sleeping pack that’s survived the journey, and utters a sharp, decisive, “Fuck.”